Everyone's idea of a big accomplishment is a little different, but whether you finally built that home server, or you negotiated a $30,000 raise, we're sure you've done something amazing this year. So, let's hear your biggest accomplishment from the year, and how you managed to pull it off.
Photo by Rahim Sonawalla.
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NEW DELHI (AP) -- A young woman who died after being gang-raped and beaten on a bus in India's capital was cremated Sunday amid an outpouring of anger and grief by millions across the country demanding greater protection for women from sexual violence.
The cremation took place during a private ceremony in New Delhi soon after the woman's body arrived in the capital on a special Air India flight from Singapore, where she died at a hospital Saturday after being sent for medical treatment.
The tragedy has forced India to confront the reality that sexually assaulted women are often blamed for the crime, forcing them to keep quiet and discouraging them from going to authorities for fear of exposing their families to ridicule. Police often refuse to accept complaints from rape victims, and the rare prosecutions that reach courts can drag on for years.
Security was tight, with no access to the public or media at the crematorium.
Prime Minister Manmohan Singh and Sonia Gandhi, head of the ruling Congress party, were at the airport to receive the body and meet family members of the victim who were on the flight.
Hours after the victim died early Saturday, Indian police charged six men who had been arrested in connection with the attack with murder, adding to accusations that they beat and gang-raped the woman on a New Delhi bus on Dec. 16.
New Delhi police spokesman Rajan Bhagat said the six suspects face the death penalty if convicted, in a case that has triggered protests across India and raised questions about lax attitudes by police toward sexual crimes.
After 10 days at a hospital in New Delhi, the victim, who has not been identified, was taken Thursday to Singapore's Mount Elizabeth hospital, which specializes in multi-organ transplants, but her condition worsened, with her vital signs deteriorating.
Following her death, thousands of Indians lit candles, held prayer meetings and marched through various cities and towns, including New Delhi, Mumbai, Bangalore and Kolkata, on Saturday night to express their grief and demand stronger protection for women and the death penalty for rape, which is now punishable by a maximum of life imprisonment.
But even as thousands mourned the rape victim's death and in a sign of how pervasive such crimes are, police in West Bengal state were investigating another suspected gang-rape and death.
In the latest case, the family of a woman said she and her husband were attacked by six men as they returned home after working at a brick factory.
They dragged the woman into a nearby farm after pouring acid into her husband's mouth, the family said.
The woman was found dead with multiple injuries, said police officer Bhaskar Mukherjee, adding he was waiting for an autopsy report.
No charges have been laid. Another police officer, Sugata Sen, said four men had been detained for questioning.
The alleged attack is similar to the Dec. 16 case, where the woman and a male friend, who also has not been identified, were on a bus after watching a film when they were attacked by six men who raped her. The men beat the couple and inserted an iron rod into the woman's body, resulting in severe organ damage. Both were then stripped and thrown off the bus, according to police.
Dozens of protesters tried to break through a police cordon Sunday and march to the parliament building in the Indian capital, but were pushed back. The protesters, belonging to the student wing of main opposition Bharatiya Janata Party, shouted anti-government slogans as they marched.
Hundreds of policemen have sealed off the high-security area, where the seat of India's government is located, in anticipation of more protests. The area is home to parliament, the president's palace, the prime minister's office and several ministries.
Gandhi assured the protesters in a statement that the rape victim's death "deepens our determination to battle the pervasive, the shameful social attitudes and mindset that allow men to rape and molest women and girls with such an impunity."
Attitudes by Indians toward rape are so entrenched that even politicians and opinion makers have often suggested that women should not go out at night or wear clothes that might be seen as provocative.
Meanwhile, a United Nations statement said U.N. Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon "offers his sincerest condolences" to the victim's family and "utterly condemns this brutal crime."
"Violence against women must never be accepted, never excused, never tolerated," the statement said. "Every girl and woman has the right to be respected, valued and protected."
Ban urged the Indian government to take steps to deter such crimes and bring perpetrators to justice, and to "strengthen critical services for rape victims," it said.
Source: http://hosted.ap.org/dynamic/stories/A/AS_INDIA_GANG_RAPE?SITE=INELK&SECTION=HOME&TEMPLATE=DEFAULT
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Naseer Ahmed / Reuters
Paramedics inspect the bodies of Shiite pilgrims killed by a car bomb in Quetta on Sunday.
By NBC News staff and wire services
QUETTA, Pakistan -?Pakistani militants, who have escalated attacks in recent weeks, killed at least 40 people in two separate incidents, officials said on Sunday, challenging assertions that military offensives have broken the back of hardline Islamist groups.
A car bomb exploded near a convoy of buses taking Shiite pilgrims to Iran, killing at least 19 people and wounding 30, officials told NBC News, the latest attack on the minority sect.?
Earlier Sunday, 21 tribal policemen believed to have been kidnapped by the Taliban were found shot dead in Pakistan's troubled northwest tribal region, government officials said.
Witnesses said the blast occurred as the three buses were overtaking a car about 35 miles west of Quetta, capital of sparsely populated Baluchistan province, site of many sectarian attacks, near the Iranian border.?
Pakistan has experienced a spike in killings over the last year by radical Sunni Muslims targeting Shiites who they consider heretics. The violence has been especially pronounced in Baluchistan province, where the latest attack occurred. ?
"The bus next to us caught on fire immediately," pilgrim Hussein Ali, 60, told Reuters. "We tried to save our companions but were driven back by the intensity of the heat."?
A second eyewitness said the bomber rushed by in a pick-up truck, swerved in front of the first bus and slammed on the brakes. The bus slammed into the pick-up truck and then a big explosion occurred.?
Photos: Blast in Karachi kills six, wounds 48
Akbar Durrani, Baluchistan's home secretary, told Reuters that rescue teams were trying to reach victims in the wreckage of the vehicles, one of which was still in flames some time after the attack. He said the death toll could rise.?
Fayaz Aziz / Reuters
A badly injured paramilitary soldier, who survived the shooting by Taliban militants, receives treatment at a hospital in Peshawar on Sunday.
At least 19 were killed in the attacks, and 30 wounded, according to government officials.?
A string of attacks on Shiites underscores the government's inability to crack down on groups promoting sectarian violence.?
Sectarian tensions
Shiites make up around 15 percent of Pakistan's 190 million people. They are scattered around the country, but the province of Baluchistan has the largest community, mainly made up of ethnic Hazaras, easily identified by their facial features which resemble those of Central Asians.
Pakistan's 'dynastic politics': Bhutto's son launches career
Sunni extremists have long carried out attacks against Shiites in Pakistan. But the sectarian campaign has stepped up in recent years, fueled mainly by the radical group Laskar-e-Jangvhi, aligned to Pakistani Taliban militants headquartered in the tribal region. More than 300 Shiites have been killed in Pakistan this year, according to Human Rights Watch.
The violence has pushed Baluchistan in particular deeper into chaos. The province was already facing an armed insurgency by ethnic Baluch separatists who frequently attack security forces and government facilities. But the secessionist violence has been overtaken by increasingly bold attacks against Shiites.?
Pakistan, Afghanistan share vision on Taliban
The sectarian bloodletting adds another layer to the turmoil in Pakistan, where the government is fighting an insurgency by the Pakistani Taliban and where many fear Sunni hardliners are gaining strength. Shiites and rights group say the government does little to protect Shiites and that militants are emboldened because they are believed to have links to Pakistan's intelligence agencies.?
Tribal policemen killed
The 21 tribal policemen who were shot dead were found by officials shortly after midnight Sunday in the Jabai area of Frontier Region Peshawar after being notified by one policeman who escaped, said Naveed Akbar Khan, a top political official in the area. Another policeman was found seriously wounded, said Khan.?
The 23 policemen went missing before dawn Thursday when militants armed with rocket-propelled grenades and automatic weapons attacked two posts in Frontier Region Peshawar. Two policemen were also killed in the attacks.?
After receiving threatening telephone calls warning they would regret helping the "infidel" campaign against polio, a group of woman, working on a UN-backed polio vaccination campaign, were shot and killed by gunmen a day after a similar slaying in Karachi. Ch4 Europe's Lindsey Hilsum reports. Warning: Some images maybe disturbing.
Militants lined the policemen up on a cricket pitch late Saturday night and gunned them down, said another local official who spoke on condition of anonymity because he was not authorized to talk to the media.?
Also Sunday, two Pakistani army soldiers were killed by a roadside bomb in the North Waziristan tribal area, the main sanctuary for Taliban and al-Qaida militants in the country, security officials said, speaking on condition of anonymity in line with official policy.?
NBC News'?Mushtaq Yusufzai,?The Associated Press and Reuters contributed to this report.
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Tonight from Las Vegas, the UFC heavyweight title is on the line between Junior "Cigano" dos Santos, and the former champion, Cain Velasquez.
Dos Santos and Velasquez have met before, at the first UFC on Fox card last November. In that fight, dos Santos knocked out Velasquez in 64 seconds and became the new champion.
From there, both fighters would compete again at UFC 146, although against different opponents. Dos Santos would defend his heavyweight title against the former champion, Frank Mir, and Velasquez would face off against Antonio Silva in his first UFC fight. Dos Santos beat Mir by second-round TKO and Velasquez beat Silva by first-round TKO.
Tonight, dos Santos and Velasquez will meet for a second time, this time with dos Santos as champion. The first fight between these two lasted only 64 seconds, but there is still plenty that can be taken from that.
Velasquez was throwing a lot of leg kicks, and his game plan clearly involved taking away the lead leg of dos Santos. Additionally, expect Velasquez to shoot early and shoot often. He has seen the power of dos Santos, and he doesn't want to see it again.
Dos Santos is going to do what he always does: stand up with his opponents, avoid takedowns and pick his opponents apart with his boxing. Dos Santos has incredible speed and power, and he will use that to his advantage, as he always does.
Many are saying that the first fight between these two was a fluke, or that Velasquez's knee injury affected the fight heavily. That may or may not be true, but don't expect anything to change this time around. Dos Santos will still come out with a knockout victory, it just won't be as fast as last time.
By the fourth round, dos Santos will land an uppercut and put Cain out cold to defend his title and tie the record for most consecutive UFC heavyweight title defenses.
?
Tim McTiernan is a Featured Columnist for Bleacher Report. For the latest news on everything?MMA, follow him on Twitter?@TimMcTiernan.
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What I lost and where I lost it, and what you might lose before you have it.
Having a dramatic life, filled with emotional highs and lows, elating and painful events, does not necessarily fuel good writing -- at least, not if you don't have the time to let the sensations reverberate in the correct parts of your mind.
My teenage and early adult years were filled with explosive disruption. Speaking with a friend recently, I was trying to describe the mad intensity of that time. There was no way to encapsulate all of the mad mood swings that accompanied life then. I thought of the swirling eddies of words that came from the girl on the toadstool, writing words on the wall of a bedroom not hers, then tearing at the paint until there was nothing left but scars; arriving at a party you hadn't been told was an orgy and wondering how to tell one guest from another as they writhed around each other making pink balloon animals; borscht with beat poets in the East Village and on the way there a man selling stolen formalwear on the sidewalks -- Hey, man, tuxedo, ten dollars? Just try it on, man! - then being told that Dylan had just left because you couldn't find parking; rescuing a young woman supposedly kidnapped, only to realize much later that she hadn't been, her saying, "I looked at you and saw someone else" -- that someone else being someone bad -- and relating tales of dark priests prophesying dire futures, saying she might heal everyone she touched -- or was it hurt? She couldn't remember, but thought it was maybe the former.
I was twice condemned to Hell by zealots before I was 21 and went there each time, finding it's a nice place to live, but you wouldn't want to visit. I fell in love with a girl who dressed only in rags; when she moved the layers swirled and cut the air like swords. I dropped out of school to live with her because we had the same favorite film and ended alone in an unknown city, strangers I met showing me more kindness than she ever would again. Coming home, I lay on the floor for days thinking of the time a friend had invited me on a double date, not bothering to tell me until I arrived at the movie theater that I would be going alone. I thought of a quiet girl of whom I asked questions, her saying, "No one has ever cared what I thought about things before." When we parted, her eyes were aglow with something beautiful, a realization of self. She never spoke to me again. Then there was the large-breasted woman who was obsessed with international fishing rights. She never spoke to me again either; that was okay. I hear she's changed and is into charitable giving. I'm afraid to make further inquiries.
I lived every day in extremes of passion and pain. You can survive like that at that age, and the friction created by the switchbacks in the road, the tectonic plates of rebirth and self-destruction pushing against each other, fueled songs, stories, novels, plays, screenplays. I had had the technical abilities for a long time, but those days and nights made me a writer in the sense of having something to say and giving me the need to say it. When confronted with the incomprehensible, you can either run away or write it down. I wrote it down.
None of those experiences was directly applicable to baseball, but you are the sum of your history, and much about those days found its way into my baseball writing. I've never been as passionate about sports as many of my colleagues, but I was passionate about so many other things, including the way that we talked about a game, that elements of the mad years entered my sportswriting, animated it, and thereby did I find success.
Late in my twenties, I found a safe harbor from the upheavals of those years, sanctuary. I shouted "No more!" to a sparkling night sky, banished the insanity, and whitewashed the wall. I got myself a wife and a family and lived quietly.
***
Sanctuary seems like a good idea, but it's not, not if you want to stay vital creatively. Now, as throughout this series, I have to add a caveat: I'm not talking about baseball analysis. If all you want to do is blog reactions to transactions, the Yankees will be signing Matt Diaz at least once a year for the rest of your life, so you can paint by numbers for as long as you like. That's not what I'm on about. Rather, I am referring to the life-energy and experience that provides the fuel for originality.
In 1966, Stephen Sondheim made a television musical out of "Evening Primrose," a short horror story about a writer (played in the film by Tony Perkins) who drops out of society to live secretly in the Macy's flagship store in Manhattan. In the first song, he is elated by his decision:
He steps out of the kiosk and starts wandering through the deserted store, past the wine coolers, French telephones, dog collars, ceramic bookends and into the yawning cavern of the store.
Look at it:
Beautiful:
What a place to live,
What a place to write!
I shall be inspired.
I shall turn out elegies and sonnets,
Verses by the ton.
At last I have a home,
And nobody will know,
No one in the world,
Nobody will know I am here.
I am free.
It doesn't work that way, not when you're older. If you ever wonder why your favorite writer or songwriter (be he or she in a band or a solo performer) declines in quality as he gets older, it's because he or she is safe, has found sanctuary. When you're young, you live in the turbulent world I described above, not one identical to mine, of course, but yours. Brightly colored emotions flow into your work. Later, as the days grow quieter, or you do, your spirit calming, you have to find something to replace the demons and poets and orgies. Many never do. The quietude of sanctuary -- and sanctuary may be a synonym for age, but I don't think the change is as inevitable as that -- has cut them off from their muse.
Now, I am not saying that there is no such thing as pure invention, that all good writing is generated by autobiography. That's plainly not true, as I'll explain in a moment. However, for all but the most gifted at imagining, whether writers of fiction or non-fiction, there is something lost in the way of verisimilitude when the power provided by experience is replaced by craft. That is, a different kind of experience takes over; having written so many stories, songs, or even trade evaluations, you have come to understand the mechanics of creation, and therefore can do a passable imitation of inspiration even if the real thing is nowhere in the vicinity.
The difference between inspiration and craft can be seen in the gap between Paul McCartney in the Beatles and in his solo career, or Mark Twain in Tom Sawyer and Tom Sawyer Abroad, or, if you prefer baseball, between the early editions of the Bill James Baseball Abstract and the later ones, or between the Abstract and The Bill James Player Ratings Book. It's the difference between giving birth to something and assembling it from parts.
***
Since about mid-2011 I have been trying to shake loose from my sanctuary. It wasn't done for the sake of writing, it wasn't all done consciously, and I'm still unsure if I was motivated by the death instinct or the life instinct, if the point was to get one's head above the surface of the 40-year-old's day-to-day life and breathe uncompromised air or to just open one's mouth and inhale regardless of the water rushing in. Some of it may have been the product of the typical midlife crisis, and some the product of a failing constitution -- I have been battling cancer and other illnesses since I was 30, and the war to stay alive changes you in that you are so busy trying to save yourself that you might wake up one day and find that you're no longer worth saving, having given over so much of your time, energy, and initiative to pills and therapies and men in white coats that there is no part of you left. "We had to destroy the village in order to save it," a soldier supposedly said during the Vietnam War. That can apply to a person as well.
Over the last 18 months I have taken many risks, not all of them smart. Some of them paid off very nicely. I have a better job than I started out with and many new friends, some of whom quickly became part of my inner circle and I hope will be there forever. I have also lost a few people I would rather not have lost and learned some things about others I would rather not have known. I once wrote (borrowing from an ancient Greek aphorism) that the hand that has hurt you might be the one that heals. This year I have found that the reverse is also true. I have been injured quite badly at times, and, I am ashamed to admit, I have inflicted pain as well. Even if much of my share was unintentional (I would like to believe I am a good person), I have to take responsibility for it -- no one deserves to be a casualty of your personal earthquake.
In short, I have returned to the days of the tattered cloak, the sleeping on floors in the wrong cities, of sitting at strangers' tables with a notebook. You would think that the old formula would mean the old results: take one writer, add trauma, shake. Result: compelling, vibrant material. It turns out it doesn't work that way.
The reason for that, I think, is there is not enough time to rest with what you have lived through when you are an adult living in an adult world of jobs and a family. When you're 18 or 20 you have gaps in time, hours you're not going to class, not working. There is no anxious drum drum drum of the next thing being due, no boss at office door, the only deadline perhaps some distant term paper you'll do the night before. Emotion takes up residence in those spaces and ferments. Creativity lives in the silences. With too crowded a life you lose something essential. Pain no longer begets prose; pain just begets pain.
This is something I should have realized more than a year ago. My first appearance at SB Nation came while I was still working for Baseball Prospectus, part of a home and away series Rob Neyer and I played; he did a guest piece there, I did one here. Here is how mine began (I would supply you with a link, but the piece seems to no longer exist in the archives):
I come to you today as a writer on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Well, over the edge of one, actually. I am deeply in the midst of a nervous breakdown, passing bent mile marker 50 out of 100, 1000, or 1,000,000 on the shivering highway. I am 40 years old, consumed with work I don't necessarily want to be doing, and obsessed with the idea that I should chuck it all and do the work that I want to do, except that I don't trust myself to do it even if I had the opportunity. Worse, I am torn by the inherently conflicting ideas that I am running out of time to do the things I am not talented enough to accomplish.
You can date my kicking at the walls of sanctuary from roughly that moment (the piece ran in late July 2011). I went on:
I think I had abilities to exploit at one point. I wrote one book, then stopped to manage book projects for others. That seemed like a good idea at the time, but seven years have gone by and I won't be getting that time back. I have been 12 years in the business of writing about baseball, and I have made a small name for myself, but I don't think it will be getting any bigger. I can't stop to think about it, because this blog needs another entry written, that one needs another entry edited. I am no longer my own master.*
The ending, then, is like "The Wizard of Oz." "Oh, Dorothy. You had the power to be a miserable asshole at home all along!" If the goal was to live dangerously (more accurate: stupidly) so I could write, I needn't have bothered. That wasn't the goal -- as I explained earlier, there was no goal. It just happened. Yet, it would have been nice to have at least receive that much in return for the price paid.
*When the piece was published, one of my then-bosses was offended. "You just said you hate your job," he said. "No, no, no, no," I said. "I love my job. I hate myself."
As such, what I hope to impart to you is the same thing I knew 18 months ago but was incapable of truly absorbing: you won't be getting the time back. In chapter 9, verse 4 of the Book of John, a section of a bestseller of which you might have heard, it says, "I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh when no man can work." The 19th century Scottish essayist Thomas Carlyle took that thought and spun it into a writer's creed. "Produce! Produce! Were it but the pittifullest infinitesimal fraction of a product, produce it, in God's name! ?T is the utmost thou has in thee; out with it, then. Up, up! Whatsoever they hand findeth to do, do it with thy whole might. Work while it is called Today; for the night cometh wherein no man can work." I have used this quote many times, have tried and failed to live by it. May it serve you better than it has served me.
Justified by his own philosophy, Carlyle went on to produce 30 volumes of bad essays. Nevertheless, his point is still good. Many people like to claim that they are writers, or say that they would like to write, but they never put anything on paper. The only way to be a writer, to know you are a writer, is to write. The career of many a Mark Twain has died aborning because of a fatal disconnect of the imagination, pen, and work ethic -- or simply fear. The day job is too good, the risk too great. Tomorrow, I will try it tomorrow. I promise you, your number of tomorrows is limited and dwindling by the day, hour, and minute.
There are many nights that descend in the course of a lifetime. One is named sanctuary and it is the death of something important, even if it may make you, in other areas of your life, happier overall. Some would call sanctuary maturation, or the taking on of responsibility, the end of your inner Peter Pan. In many cases they would be correct, but not for the writer. Cherish the dramatic days of your youth, cherish the fertile darkness that will soon be forever dispelled. And if the noise of life does come for you, if the waters of complacency threaten you with a fatal calm, grab your oar and paddle like hell for the next silence.
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NORTH LAS VEGAS, Nev. (AP) ? Police investigating the week-old disappearance of a 10-year-old Las Vegas girl said Thursday they think they found the child's body in an undeveloped housing tract in North Las Vegas.
Authorities couldn't immediately confirm the body was Jade Morris pending positive identification and notification of family members by the Clark County coroner, Las Vegas police homicide Capt. Chris Jones said.
But, "I can tell you that the likelihood is that this is our victim," Jones said.
He also said that the body belongs to a black girl.
Coroner Michael Murphy said he did not expect positive identification until Friday.
Jade was last seen by her family at about 5 p.m. Dec. 21 when Brenda Stokes picked her up for a shopping outing, police said. Police said Stokes was a trusted friend of the girl's father, and family members have told reporters that the two dated for several years.
Stokes, who also uses the name Brenda Wilson, was later arrested after she was accused of slashing a co-worker with razor blades at the Bellagio resort casino.
Stokes, 50, is now in jail and Jones said she has not cooperated in the investigation about the girl's whereabouts.
A passer-by called 911 about noon Thursday, and North Las Vegas police found a girl's body in unkempt brush near palm trees in a small traffic circle near Dorrell Lane and North 5th Street.
The location is a short distance from the northern 215 Beltway and about 10 miles from the downtown Las Vegas outlet mall off Interstate 15 where Stokes was to have taken the girl shopping.
Attempts by The Associated Press to reach family members on Thursday were unsuccessful.
Stokes picked up the girl about 5 p.m., and two hours later returned to another friend the red 2007 Saab sedan that she borrowed for the shopping trip, Jones said.
Later, Stokes got a ride with a friend to the Bellagio resort on the Las Vegas Strip, where she was arrested after allegedly attacking a female co-worker, Joyce Rhone, with a razor in each hand as Rhone dealt blackjack about 9:30 p.m.
Rhone, 44, was hospitalized with deep cuts on her face, including one from her ear to the edge of her mouth. A police arrest report said Rhone also had several smaller cuts around her right eye.
Records show that Stokes was being held Thursday on $60,000 bail at the Clark County jail on felony battery with a weapon, burglary and mayhem charges that could get her decades in prison.
She told a judge Wednesday that she had not obtained a lawyer. She was due again in Las Vegas Justice Court on Friday.
The arrest report says casino video shows Stokes attacking Rhone before a casino patron and security officers intervene. Officer Marcus Martin said the video is evidence that may be shown by prosecutors in court but will not be made public by police.
Police said Stokes later told investigators that she attacked Rhone over harassing phone calls and an unspecified betrayal that ended their seven-year friendship.
Stokes also told police she visited her doctor last week, seeking to be admitted to a hospital "due to feeling like she wanted to hurt someone."
She is reported to have told investigators she hadn't taken a prescription anti-anxiety drug on Friday, and that, "Sometimes people just snap."
Source: http://news.yahoo.com/vegas-police-investigate-discovery-girls-body-231900089.html
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